


Oh Captain my Captain!

by Striderella



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Aftercare, Alcohol, Anal Sex, Bro Strider type reader, Creampie, Dom/sub, Humiliation, M/M, Rough Oral Sex, cum, red/black rom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-01 20:28:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15151193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Striderella/pseuds/Striderella
Summary: You badly want to be dominated by the rough sea rogue and you finally get a chance while aboard his ship as his newest and only recruit.





	Oh Captain my Captain!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inkyopolis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkyopolis/gifts).



> This was originally a commission from Tumblr for Inkypolis. I don't normally post commissions as a general rule as the majority of clients prefer not to share but we already know Inky is a massive perv so I have permission. ;)

Of all the bubbles you have explored since your untimely death in a fiery ball of flames, you are drawn mostly towards the ones containing oceans and beaches. It is indeed a strange habit for you because when you were alive, you didn't exactly take a lot of interest in the sea. It was tough enough living in a desert town with fair skin that freckles so very easily when the sun hits it and blonde hair that bleaches almost white in the light of day. You preferred in those days to stay indoors and enjoy your various hobbies - video games, weight training, sword fighting, and watching some of the most appalling anime of all time. But now you are in the afterlife, the vast and open space offers more comfort some how. You could spend eternity sat here on the sand staring out at the cold ocean. In fact, that was now totally possible.

These are not your memories you are sat in. You don't think you ever saw a beach in person when you were alive. If it wasn't for the pink and green moons, you wouldn't be able to tell if this was Earth or Alternia. No one cares which memories you wander into and what you see here. You have complete freedom and have met so many interesting characters - mostly trolls but some humans too. Many of the former were harmless but you had been warned to stay away from certain characters who may still cause you harm. Sure, you can't die… not again anyway… but pain is still possible here for some sick reason.

Firstly, there are the Makaras who will bludgeon you as soon as look at you. Then there are some very bitchy blue blooded troll ladies obsessed with treasure and killing. Finally there was one hell of a super psycho who you were led to believe was in fact some sort of royalty. You had briefly met these men and women while at the same time avoiding any confrontation but one dodgy customer still eluded you. A troll by the name of "Dualscar".

Out of all the dead souls wandering the bubbles, this one caught your attention more than the others when you were told of him. The sweet troll female who created the bubbles told you of his legend - how he was a bloodthirsty sea-captain who killed and maimed without any mercy for those he felt were beneath him or just annoyed him. He beat his own slaves for just looking in his direction. A notorious caliginous lover of many and a brute to all, he finally met his end at the hands of the Grand Highblood.

He had been seen by others sailing on the oceans in a beaten up old ship in various bubbles but not by you. This sweet girl begged you not to look for him as if she could almost read your mind and see your intrigue. In fact, thinking about it, your new-found love of the beach started around the same time as you learnt of his tale.

It takes you days, months, maybe years (who can tell?) to find him. You told yourself you were not on-purposely looking for him yet you feel a weight lift off your chest when you finally see him. In the bowels of a deep cave are the still sea-worthy remains of a ship. You know instantly this is his. Without any fear you find your way on board. The creaking of old wood gives you away and you soon find yourself on your back with a cutlass at your throat.

The milky white eyes that stare into yours once held the most vivid lilac. His face is young but ravaged by sea salt and old wounds. The wave shaped scar above his eye clears up any doubt in your mind who he is. He demands to know why you were here. What are you doing on his ship? Who sent you? You tell him everything. How you came here. How you wandered into the cave and found his ship. Pure verbal diarrhoea descends upon you brought on by a mix of fear and thrills. He lets you up with a swift movement and, holding on to your shirt, holds you up toward the brighter part of the cave when the sunlight illuminates your strange features. He finds you curious and you find yourself missing his weight on top of your body.

That is your very first meeting. Your curiosity about him has only tripled. You begin to visit him often, bringing whatever you can find that you think will interest him especially alcohol and human books on biology, history, and oceans. He welcomes the company now all of his crew have gone, abandoning him to his lonely afterlife. You find yourself in awe of his tales of great hunts, battles, lovers, and treasure. Frankly, you could sit for hours listening to his rough, deep rum soaked voice painting images in your mind.

You are curious about the ship. He offers to teach you about sailing and fighting but he warns you that you will be learning the same way trolls do. He will be a strict teacher and if you fuck up, you will be beaten.

You agree.

You never worked so hard before, even when you were alive. Hour after hour you are running around doing the work of twenty men all while having orders and abuse barked at you. You never complain. You never argue back. You love it, even when he calls you a useless bastard and stands on your back as you scrub the deck, the heels of his boots bruising your skin. You feel more alive than ever. Any tiny mistake gets you a strike - across the face, back, thighs, whatever is closest. You still don't give up. In fact you find yourself making mistakes deliberately just for his attention. The feel of his rough calloused hand making instant contact with your skin is not undesirable. After every day, he allows you into his cabin, pours you a drink and tells you more tales as if nothing happened…

...and it is glorious.

One night, after finishing a long 17 hour day, you are commanded inside the Captain's quarters to study map reading. You are exhausted. Your hands are red and sore, your face and body are dirty, and all you have on are a pair of shorts due to the sweat you had pouring from your body during your work. Now you are sitting down, the cold air finally starts to get to you. You focus hard on the map in front of you, trying to make sense of what you are seeing, trying not to rub your sore skin for warmth. He watches you intensely. A bottle of rum is on his desk. You don't want to look up. You know his shirt is open and his chest is exposed. You don't want him to catch you looking at his muscular form. You can already see it in your mind. His rough skin scratched, weather-beaten, and tattooed. It makes you blush just thinking about in.

He sees your skin pricking in the cold air and smirks to himself. He asks if you are cold. You nod. He stands up and takes the rum in his hand. He clearly overshadows you which is not easy as you are a tall guy yourself but he has a clear foot and a half over you, not counting the wave-like horns. His smile is unnerving but sexy. He moves between you and the map, stepping over your lap so he is almost straddling your thighs. All it would take was for his to sit down to be on top of you but he merely smiles down at your surprised face. He tells you to ask him nicely and you can have some rum to warm your bones. You feel a not so unpleasant twitch in your dick and you pray that you don’t cum in your shorts in front of your captain.

"Please…" you whisper.

You know can do better than that. You swallow the lump in your throat and try again.

"Please Captain."

This seems to do for now. Dualscar takes a huge swig from the bottle and smashes it against the wall behind your head. You jump. You have no idea what he is going to do next. He is grinning at you, bearing sharp, fang-like teeth. He grabs you face roughly with one hand and kisses you. The rum trickles from his mouth into yours as his tongue explores you, guiding it down. His lips are cold but soft. He bites on your lower lip carefully as he pulls away. Any control you had over your hard on is gone.

"Do ye wwant me ta fuck yer mouth, boyo?'

You whimper something that should have been a yes but comes out as a needy, pathetic whine. He grabs the back of your head in mild annoyance.

"Answwer me properly ye fucking wwhore or ye can leavve noww."

"Yes." you practically squeal. He lets you go and lifts his hands up behind his head. It's up to you to release his cock from his zipper. He isn't doing the work for you. He doesn't want to make you do anything. He wants you to show him how much you want him. You are so excited that you barely manage to get a grip on the tag. Your fingers are shaking like the rest of your body. You wonder what to expect.

A huge violet tentacle emerges from the open zipper. It thrashes wildly like it is almost seeking you. It wraps around your wrist over and over. You can feel how cool to the touch it is. It has smooth ridges along its underside and dripping a viscous violet fluid. So this is a troll dick? It's certainly more creative than a human one. You give it a cautionary lick. It's definitely not salty. It seems to have a more powdery candy flavour like…like…

Oh Jegus, his dick tastes like those chalky parma violet sweets. You don't get a chance to make your observation to him as he tires of your complacency.

"As appealing as ye are, I am not a patient man. If ye wwish to leavve, ye knoww wwhere the door is. Otherwwise, open wwide for yer Captain." he growls. He thrusts his crotch towards you and before you have time to respond, the tentabulge takes the opportunity to seize advantage of your slightly open mouth. You nearly choke as the tip tickles and slides down your throat. Two huge hands hold each side of your face as he commands you to look up. He growls as he thrusts into your face, he smiles exposing rows of more sharp teeth. He shows you no mercy as the pain in your jaw is soothed by the coolness of troll flesh pushing against the inside of your cheeks. You can feel the ribs grazing your teeth as you finally manage to control breathing through your nose.

"That's it swweetheart." he practically purrs. "First I am gonna fill yer belly, then I am going ta havve ye on it. I havve been reading about human mating. I look forwward to finding out how much yer ass can take of me… though I suspect yer such a fucking slut, it wwon't be enough eh?". Your eyes will not stop watering. The flavour of his tentacock will not leave you for days and you feel a cold feeling sliding down your body. You realise is him cumming so much in your mouth, it is being forced out of any space it can squeeze through around your lips and down your chest. You start to rub your hands over your shorts. Fuck, your are so hard now. Your hand travels under the waist band and grabs hold tightly on to the biggest hard on you ever had. Your dick is so sensitive, you practically cry into Dualscar's thrusts before you even start moving your palm along it. He laughs.

"Look at ye! Ye fucking needy wwhore! I am almost done. Go ahead. Go on, do it. But keep looking at me. I wwant ye ta cum looking at me."

You cry out again which is really hard to do with a mouthful of alien cock. He laughs and pounds harder into you. The bastard plans to cum before you. You frantically pump for all you are worth, not caring about friction or the fact the sides of your mouth were now chapped and split due to the heavy beating they were getting. He then suddenly roars out like a lion as you gulp down what feels like a litre of slushies.

He wins.

You were so close as he pulls out. Bastard. Your jaw is so numb. Before you can finish yourself off, he grabs your wanking arm and pulls you up. You are slammed stomach and chest first on to his desk, your head turned so you are cheek down. You are certain you are going to have one hell of a shiner in the morning but your attention is quickly moved away from the pain by the ripping of your shorts. The scraps of fabric fall to the floor as a leather boot kicks your legs apart. A rough hand holds the back of your neck down on the wooden surface as the familiar feeling once held in your mouth fills your ass. You yelp.

"Tight fit, eh?" he laughs.

"Yes Captain." you grin.

"I see ye haven't lost yer fucking manners, me laddo." he chuckles. "Wwell let's see if you can be a good fuck evven wwhen being a good sailor."

He pounds into you so hard you, stretching your ring beyond bursting point you almost can't take it. His other rough hand reaches around your hips and violently grabs your cock to finish what you started. His hands are not gentle and he is definitely too big for you but fuck it, you have never been so horny. The pain, the humiliation, the grotty ship setting. The only thing that would make this better was if he old crew were still around to watch, cheering him on, calling you "slut" and "whore", picking up the leftovers after Dualscar's had finished with you, adding their own cum to your aching ass. You grip the edge of the desk. The ridges that your noted earlier were certainly making an impact on your g-spot.

"Cum already you fucking bitch" Dualscar's growls, your dick now red and raw, you knew it was the finale.

“Please Captain! Please fuck me! Please! I want more! Please! Aaaaaah!" were the only words you could manage as his hips bounced off your cheeks. You feel like a fire hydrant has gone off inside of you as you came hard over his gnarled large fist. He pulls out with a pop and with a huge cracking sound, you feel him strike you across the ass so painfully that any remain cum squirts forth.  
"Move and you will be scrubbing loadgapers for a week!" he growls and walks away. He leaves you exhausted, sore, and exposed. You stay for what seems like 20 minutes still bent over his desk. You couldn't move even if you wanted to. Everything hurts, everything is sticky, and you are so tired. You can feel your collective cum on your thighs drying out.

When you are finally allowed to move, you don't want to. Thankfully he picks you up and carries into his private bathing quarters. He cleans you off gently in a pool of seaweed scented bubbles. He takes a bottle of green liquid and applies a cloth soaked in its mossy scented gel everywhere you are bruised. The pain vanishes immediately as he cares for you with a tenderness you have never seen in him before. He plants gentle kisses on your face. He informs you that once you eat, you will sleep here tonight and he will give you new garments when you wake. You don't argue. He is your Captain after all.


End file.
